He'd never called her by her real name before, and hearing it quickened her pulse even as her spirits sank. "You reject me so kindly, my lord. But if I cannot be your wife or your concubine, will you not allow me to be your lover, at least for these next two weeks? I would ask nothing more of you."

"But you should ask more!" he said roughly. "You should demand to be a wife, not a mistress. To be cherished, not used."

"Even shameless, I cannot attract you." Tears stinging, she started to rise.

His arm tightened, holding her close. "You attract me greatly, but to act on that would be wrong when I cannot give you what you deserve."

Her mouth twisted. "I wish you didn't respect me so much. You may say I should settle for nothing less than being a wife, but you and I both know that a lord would never wed a penniless half-blood, and you will allow nothing else."

He sighed. "This has nothing to do with wealth or bloodlines. Any flaws are not in you, but in me."

She felt tension in his body, and it was not from desire. "What do you mean?"

After a long silence, he said painfully, "I've never told anyone this, but I was married once, very briefly. When Constancia died… my heart died with her. I am not fit to be husband to any woman who might love me."

The knowledge was startling, and made sense of his behavior. "I'm so sorry, my lord."

His fingers brushed her brow, pushing back tendrils of hair. "Call me Kyle, my Christian name."

Kyle. She appreciated the honor of his private name, though it was far less than she yearned for. "Did you marry in secret because your family was against the match?"

"My father would have been horrified if he had known. My brother and sister-perhaps they would have understood, because they both know what it is to love. But what I felt about Constancia was too… too personal to speak of."

She touched his chin, feeling bristles. He must shave in the morning, or he'd have a very un-Chinese beard. "If you speak of your beloved, it might ease the pain."

"Perhaps… you are right." Another silence. "Constancia was my mistress for many years. She was from Spain, whose people are very like the Portuguese you knew in Macao, dark haired and dark eyed and beautiful. She was a courtesan and many years older than I. That makes it sound as if what I felt for her was no more than a boy's infatuation with his first woman, but she was the warmest, most loving person I have ever known. When I was with her… I felt peace such as I have found nowhere else." His voice became almost inaudible. "Peace, and passion."

Having known the love of such a paragon, no wonder he had no interest in lesser females. "At least you had the courage to marry her even though it would be thought a dreadful mistake by your family."

"Making her my wife was the wisest thing I ever did. I only wish I'd done it sooner. It does me no credit that the thought occurred to me only as she lay dying."

Wanting to warm the bleakness in his voice, she said, "Late, but not too late. You were fortunate to have found each other, my lord."

He kissed her forehead lightly. "Kyle."

"Kyle," she repeated obediently.

She was prepared to be sent back to the bed, but he turned a little, resting his cheek against her hair. Intensely glad that he allowed her to stay, she settled against him, and soon slept.

England

Christmas 1832

The Renbourne family was gathering for Christmas. Troth had worried about meeting Kyle's sister, but Lady Lucia turned out to be as engaging as Dominic. She also had the height, blue eyes, and waving dark brown hair of her brothers. Her husband, Robert Justice, was a quiet man with warm eyes that regarded Troth with some curiosity but more kindness.

The two Justice children were close in age to Dominic and Meriel's pair. "Dom and I married within weeks of each other," Lucia explained when the children noisily greeted each other. "Good planning, don't you agree?"

"Indeed." Troth watched the four cousins race off in a pack, marveling at the fact that she now had four children calling her aunt.

The midday arrival of the Justices was followed by a lively luncheon. Afterward Troth withdrew to the library. Not only did she crave quiet, but this would allow the Renbournes and Justices the privacy to discuss their brother's eccentric choice of a bride.

She loved the library, which had a collection of books that would have impressed even Chenqua. She chose a volume of poetry at random and settled down to read in one of the wing chairs that flanked the fireplace. It was a blustery afternoon and wind rattled the windows, but here she was safe and warm.

The book proved to contain the works of seventeenth-century British poets. Had we but world enough, and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime. She smiled wryly as she read the lines. She'd been the one acting the part of the importunate lover, though Kyle had hardly been a shy maid. Instead, he'd been a man of honor.

The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace. She closed the book, her eyes stinging. She would never regret her shameless behavior. The greatest comfort she had found had been Dominic's quiet statement that Kyle had died doing what he most desired, and few men were so lucky. She wanted to believe it, though she couldn't help but think that living as one most desired was far better.

The library door swung open and an elderly man stumped in with a cane. If she hadn't known that the Earl of Wrexham was coming to spend Christmas with his family, she would not have recognized him as Kyle's father, for there was little resemblance. But he had the unmistakable arrogance of a nobleman, a fierce will in a frail body.

She rose and dropped into a curtsy, her heartbeat accelerating. "Lord Wrexham."

He halted a dozen feet away, squinting to see her more clearly. His gaze lingered on her slim waistline. Was he relieved or disappointed to see that she was not carrying a child? A mixed-blood child. "So you're my so-called daughter-in-law. What part of Scotland did your father come from?"

"Melrose, south of Edinburgh."

"My wife was a Highlander. The blood runs strong in my children." He gave a harsh bark of laughter. "No bad thing, for she was far handsomer than I."

He lowered himself awkwardly into the chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. "Damned gout," he muttered. "Tell me about my son's time in China."

She did, emphasizing the pleasure Kyle had found in exploring a world so different from his own, and the bravery with which he had died. The earl stared broodingly at the embers of the fire, his expression like granite.

After she finished her account, he said harshly, "I would never have permitted such a marriage, but… it's no matter now. If you gave him some happiness, I suppose I must be glad for that." He rose painfully. "You'll be well taken care of in the future." He hesitated before adding in a gruff voice, "I… I'm grateful to you for coming all this way to tell us about my boy's last days."

He left the library, leaning heavily on his cane. Troth rested her head against the chair back and closed her eyes, shaking. The worst was over now. She wasn't surprised to learn that the earl would have opposed his heir's marriage bitterly, but of course, if disaster hadn't befallen their expedition there would have been no marriage to oppose.

As Wrexham had said, it was no matter now. She did not carry an heir to Wrexham, so the family honors would pass safely to Dominic and his son. The old man could afford to tolerate her unexpected self.